Nothing but Trouble
by Evx
Summary: AU mafia one-shot. She didn't as to be in the middle of a family mafia war. She doesn't trust him.


**Here I am, back again with another one-shot for Mare and Maven. I've been gone for a while since most of what I write for other fandoms are on AO3 but since I saw reviews asking for me to write another piece for Red Queen, I decided to take the time out to write this. ****I hope you all enjoy it. Please tell me what you think.**

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She stares at the outfit in disgust.

Yet another gift to buy her cooperation. When will he learn that she will never be able to be bought?

Mare carelessly throws the no doubt expensive outfit on the chair behind her, not caring if falls on the floor or not. He's a wannabe mafia leader, he can afford to pay for dry cleaning.

She gets on the bed—not her bed; nothing here is hers no matter what he insists—and sinks down in the unnaturally soft sheets. She stares up at the ceiling, boredom in her bones.

He said she can walk around freely but is it really freely if there are men watching her every move the second she leaves this room? What freedom is there if there are eyes following her every second she's not in here? Besides, she knows that all of those men out there think of her as trouble after she picked up that gun on her last escape attempt and fired at them, him, and his mother. They know she doesn't go down without a fight so they will give it to her. Who knows who wants revenge out there. She rather be self-locked in this room than to have to watch her back constantly outside of it.

But there are only so many things she can do inside of this room and she refuses to ask him for more stuff to do. She may be a prisoner but her pride and dignity are still intact. She won't ask him for a thing. If that means she has to suffer in boredom then so be it.

Now, should she sentence herself to another frustrating session of learning how to read or should she embarrass herself by trying knitting again? She hates both ideas—both require patience she doesn't possess—but they do indeed pass the time.

Her mother and sister love knitting—at least the last time she saw them they still did—so she's been attempting to at least tolerate it. She's made nothing but a yarn wreck but it is attempting nonetheless. She wonders if he put the needles and yarn in here because he knew her family liked knitting or because he's telling her to be more ladylike but either way she won't give him the satisfaction of enjoyment, thankfulness, or success. She will keep making a mess of her yarn and keep throwing the needles at him when she can.

Now reading is a different story. Her family was too poor for school and her parents could barely read. Her brothers didn't care to learn, choosing to be better with their hands than their minds. Her sister is the only one who knows how to read well but that's because she had a fancy old lady who took pity on her and taught her. She saw her as "too elegant to be stupid". Mare never cared to learn despite the offer from her sister because she didn't have to read to steal. Stealing is what put food on their table so that's all she has to be good at. Books didn't matter.

But now, as she's stuck in a room with little to do and plenty of books, boredom takes her to places she hasn't been before. So sometimes she finds herself with a book in her lap, staring at words that she doesn't understand. She doesn't know what she's doing but she rather be frustrated and stupid than bored or out there.

She decides that she's not in the mood to stab herself with needles accidentally today so she chooses to be reminded of her illiteracy. She gets up and head over to the pointless and huge shelf in the room, filled with books of all types. She picks a thin book off of its color and goes back to the bed.

She opens the book and is again greeted by foreign symbols. Maybe if she takes it slowly she may get somewhere this time.

"Okay, that's an a and that's an n I think. Or a m maybe. O, t—or an l—am I even spelling a word?"

She huffs, already frustrated because she really can't tell the letters apart. She doesn't see how she can speak the language so well but can't tell what the stupid letters are.

She continues to try though, wanting to at least figure out one word. She ignores the ticking of the clock as she stares at the page, frustration growing.

Her irritated focus is broken when she hears a knock on her door.

He enters even though she doesn't give permission.

"You're determined to lock yourself in here, aren't you?"

Maven.

She rolls her eyes and puts the book to the side of her. She turns to him and takes in the sight of him now.

Each time she sees him, he tries to look more and more the part of a mafia boss. She wishes that bullet landed in him and not the man who protected him. For once she wants to see him look like a wreck, to be in pain, to be weak. Even when that bullet landed in his mother he showed no weakness—probably since he knew he could save her—so it makes her want to see him fall even more.

"What's it to you? As long as I'm not running away, right?" She replies snarkily.

As always, however, Maven isn't fazed by her attitude.

"True, I can't have you trying to run away again—we all know where that leads us when you try—but I know you'll drive yourself mad staying in here all of this time. I'm just looking out for your interest," he says.

As if. He's just looking out for his own interest as always. Maven Calore does not know the meaning of thinking of others.

"My interest would be for you to leave and or to preferably let me go," she snaps back.

"Did you like the outfit I bought for you?" He asks as if she never said anything.

Ignore her; that's all Maven ever does when she says something that could start an argument or that he thinks she's being foolish about. He rarely gives her the satisfaction of going back and forth.

"You and your outfit and can go get hit by a car," she replies.

Maven tuts as if her comment was only slightly dissatisfactory.

"Oh dear, and I would have sworn that I finally found a style you like. I guess I have to keep searching," he says.

Mare takes the book next to her and launches it at his head, disappointed but not surprised when he dodges it without any effort.

"And there goes your temper, always lovely to see in a conversation," Maven says.

Mare gives him a glare that could kill.

"I told you already, you can't buy my cooperation so stop trying. I don't want any of your stupid gifts. I'll never like them," she says.

Maven shakes his head with a calm sigh.

"I'm not trying to buy your cooperation, I'd be a fool to try. I'm giving you gifts because I want to. It's a way of showing my feelings toward you. You are not a person to be bought or treated like a child," he says.

"Yeah but a prisoner is fine," she spits back.

"You are the one making yourself a prisoner. I told you that you could walk around anywhere here. My men know who you are and your status. What you call them spying on you is them making sure you are safe and giving you respect," he says.

She crosses her arms with a snort.

"Yeah but if I try to leave this place every one of them would be after me. I'm not allowed to leave; I am a prisoner," she says as if it was basic math.

"You're not allowed to leave for a reason," Maven says quicker than usual and with a bit of snap to it.

Mare scoffs.

"Yeah and that being you don't want your favorite stolen toy to run away. You and I both know where I belong and it's not here with some fake mafia leader who had to steal his men from his brother's group. I'm not a piece in this imaginary sibling rivalry you have in your head so leave me out of it," she says.

The look in Maven's eyes change. Where they were once calm and unbothered before, they're now sharp and narrowed. His jaw tightens as he takes large steps over to her.

It's intimidating and a bit worrying—did he finally get tired of her mouth? Will he finally kill her—but she will never cower to him. Until the day she dies, she will never give him the satisfaction of her being afraid of him.

"This is not some imaginary rivalry and I am not a fake leader. I was born to be the boss and everyone here knows it. They left him because we'd all become a disgrace if we followed his order. You know nothing about what you're talking about," he says, voice a bit tight.

She struck a nerve clearly. Good. Let him get irritated as well.

"You say that but he has nothing against you. You're just some little brat who wants everything his older brother has so you're trying to steal it. It hurts doesn't it? It hurts to realize that you'll never be what Cal is," she taunts.

If this was a cartoon, she'd visibly see the atmosphere darken around them at those words. He is not happy.

"You think he's so great? You think I want to be like him? Let me give you a little wake-up call then, dear," Maven says.

He grabs her jaw and forces her to look him directly in the eyes.

"He is the worse out of us two. You think I'm holding you prisoner? When your family didn't have enough money to pay his unfairly high payment just for 'safety', he stole you instead and refused to let you see your family. You call yourself my toy but yet he would only touch you out of the sight of everyone and treat you like nothing when people were around. You think he's so great but we both know he would have slapped you for speaking so rudely to him and then storm away like a child and wait for you to come and apologize to him. He is not great, sweetheart, he is just trash painted in gold. I don't want to be like him because I have standards," he says.

Mare feels her body lightly trembling—from anger or something else, she doesn't know—and forcefully moves her face from his hands.

"Your standards are low then. You're a manipulative bastard ruining his family's group by going against the rightful boss of said group. You may say all those things about him but he still is the better choice than you. You are not made to lead. So like I said, keep me out of your petty sibling rivalry," she shoots back.

She didn't sign up to be in the middle of a family's mafia war. She's not a rope for the brothers to tug on. She is her own person and should be allowed to make her own choices.

"I am keeping you out of it, he's the one pulling you in. I'm the one who saw you first. I'm the one who offered to protect your family. He was the one being petty and charged your family money and took you away. He was the one who put you in the middle as if you were something to dangle in my face. He forced you to wear what he wanted, forced you to share a bed with him, shut down all of your ideas and concerns but yet he's the angel. I make you have dinner with me a few nights and that makes me so terrible, doesn't it? He may have underhandedly called you it but you aren't stupid Mare. I know that you're smart enough to realize which of us is the real monster," Maven says.

It's Mare's turn for her eyes to narrow in response.

"You! You're the monster! Don't try to act all innocent. You killed your father. You rioted men against your brother. You _used_ me as a distraction so he won't see the knife behind your back. You betrayed your family Maven all so you could have some title. That makes you a monster," she responds.

She watches as Maven's cheeks flush in what's most likely anger and a fire lights in his eyes.

"He would have ruined everyone's lives! You think he gives a damn about the poor? You think he cares whether or not people like your family have food to eat every night? No, because he's just like our father where he uses their desperation to his benefit. People who are desperate to survive will take any job, even if it's dangerous. He has twelve-year-olds running drug deals because they need some money to feed their families. He doesn't care about the poor as long as the rich stay rich and he stays on top. I betrayed my family because I can do so much better. You know that but you want to paint me as the villain so you're finding every reason to. I may have planned an upsurge but at least me in power will actually help people," he says.

Mare stares at him in silence.

Part of her knows that Maven is correct and that Cal isn't as great as he's painted to be. She knows he has his flaws and knows that he is not for the poor. He's a rich boy who hates change and hates to step out of his comfort zone. But she won't say that makes Maven any better. She's watched him kill people, frame people, manipulate people. She hates mind games and that's all Maven is. He's one big mind game that everyone loses to. She doesn't trust him; not anymore. At least she can see Cal's true colors easily, even if they are shown through rose-tinted glass. Maven is too deceptive for anyone to know what he's really like. She's not going to take her chance.

"I. Don't. Trust. You," she says, enunciating every word.

His jaw tightens as he stares her down. She's expecting him to yell some more "facts" at her to make her choose his side in this family war or for him to threaten her to make her regret her words. With that look in his eyes, she's expecting him to snap.

So she is more than surprised when he backs up and schools his face into a neutral expression.

"Very well then, I'll just have to accept that. I can't force you to trust me nor will I try. Believe whatever you want. I didn't come here to argue anyway. I came to check on you and to remind you that you are free to walk around. You're also invited to join me for dinner but it is not mandated. I'll be back later," he says, turning around calmly as if they were never arguing.

"Why?" She spits back, still upset with him.

He bends down and picks up the thrown book off of the floor. He puts it on the nearest surface.

"To give you your first lesson in reading of course. You wouldn't be so quick to throw these if you knew the wonder that is inside them. I'll be properly teaching you, starting from the alphabet, so don't worry," he responds.

"I didn't ask you to teach me how to read," she huffs.

He looks over his shoulder and his bright blue eyes pierce her in her spot.

"I didn't ask for you to kill my mother but yet here we are," he says.

Her eyes widen.

Elara died? But she thought they were able to save her? She doesn't think she hit anywhere fatal, she barely knows how to use the gun properly, so how did she die? She hated the woman, yes, but she wasn't trying to kill her, she was only trying to escape. How long ago did she die? Did she die immediately that day or did they try to save her but she died later on? Why is Maven still treating her the same? What does he have up his sleeve? Why is he now telling her this? Why all of a sudden?

"Congratulations, you're a monster too. You're officially a part of the club. By the way, my lovely brother will be ecstatic to know that you killed her. He's been wanting to do that since father married her. I guess you did pick up something from your prince in shining armor," he says.

His voice isn't mocking or threatening but there's something about it that makes Mare uneasy. She's not comfortable with how plainly he is saying those words.

"Maven, what are you planning?" She says, on guard and on edge.

He snorts, turning back away from her.

"Mare dearest, if only you knew. Goodbye now," he says.

He opens the door and walks out the room without another word. Her hand stretches out to stop him but the words get caught in her throat. She just watches him leave, vague words hanging in the air.

She is left alone once again in the silent room.

She stares at the book he sat down and a sense of dread tickles her chest.

Maven is unpredictable. His mood switches too quickly and his face rarely ever does what he's thinking. She could think she's in his good favor and then he kills her in her sleep. She isn't on equal grounds to play this type of game with him. He called her a monster but he can do much worse to her without even trying. She won't take anything sitting but that doesn't mean she'll win.

Whatever the hell Maven is planning, it won't be good for her.

A thief playing a game against a mafia boss; what are the odds in her favor? She's really going to have a hell of a time with this one.

"It's nothing but trouble when the Calores are involved."


End file.
